Always the Unexpected
by Hermione Eveningfall
Summary: Little brothers can be such a pain! But why do they have to be so cute, anyway?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Always the Unexpected

Author: Hermione Eveningfall

Fandom: Heroes

Pairing: None. Young!Peter & Nathan family fic

Rating: G

Summary: Sometimes little brothers can make life more difficult than one would like, but darn it, why do they have to be so cute anyway?

Part I

_Nathan's Birthday Surprise_

Nathan Petrelli strolled home from the bus stop on Friday afternoon, avoiding rain puddles leftover from the storm that passed through. It was his tenth birthday, and he couldn't wait to get home and open the presents from his parents. He pulled open the front door, tossing his backpack to the side, and bolted into the kitchen.

"Nate!" He nearly fell backwards as his younger brother, Peter, nearly knocked him over with a hug. "Happy Birthday!" he beamed, and Nathan laughed, ruffling his seven year old brother's hair playfully.

"Thanks, Pete. Where's Mom?"

"She went out," Peter replied, "but promised she'd be back in a half hour."

"Oh." Nathan frowned. His father worked until five thirty, but his mother did her work from home ever since Peter was born.

"I got you a present!" Peter leapt up from his chair and hurried into the living room. When he returned, he carried a small wrapped gift box, and Nathan felt his heart crumble at the gesture.

"Thank you," he replied, and gave his little brother a hug. Peter bounced up and down as Nathan tore the paper away, and opened up a box to find a brand new baseball. He had a feeling his mother or father had taken Pete shopping, because he was almost positive the younger boy hadn't saved enough of his allowance to buy it himself.

"I used my own money to get it!" Peter raised his head proudly, and Nathan stared.

"You saved your allowance long enough to buy me a baseball?" He couldn't believe it, and Peter nodded.

"Yep! I wanted to get you a real good present. You have to promise to play with me, though!"

Nathan grinned, setting the box down on the table, and took the baseball into his hand. "You bet I will," he replied, and Peter's grin stretched even wider if possible. In fact, Nathan pulled his younger brother outside to pass the time with the ball while they waited for their parents. "Be careful, though...the ground's pretty wet and muddy still," he warned, though cringed when Peter slipped and fell almost immediately.

"Ow!" Peter yelped, and Nathan rolled his eyes as he gave his brother a hand up.

"Great," he muttered. "Mom's gonna kill me if she sees your pants all covered in mud. We should wait to play baseball when the ground's dry."

Peter's lower lip stuck out in a pout, but he agreed to go upstairs and change his clothes.

When Mrs. Petrelli returned home, she greeted her eldest son with hugs, kisses, and birthday wishes. "Did you have a good day at school, dear?" she asked, and Nathan shrugged.

"It was okay," he replied. "Pete gave me his present already...I can't believe he saved his allowance for the baseball."

His mother chuckled as she began to put the groceries away, and listened as footsteps pounded on the main staircase.

"Momma!" Peter called, and she smiled when the youngest of her sons entered the kitchen, and she inquired if he'd been a good boy while she was out. "Yes," he insisted, and she kissed his forehead lovingly.

"Good. Your Dad should be home in an hour, and then we'll celebrate!"

"An hour? Really?" Nathan asked, surprised, and his mother shot him a mischevious look in response.

"He had to pick up an extra special surprise for your birthday, and the shop closed before 5."

Nathan's ears pricked at the comment, and his heart pounded with excitement. He could see the expression on Peter's face as well, and realized he knew.

They sat watching television in the living room when the front door opened, revealing Mr. Petrelli, who had a wriggling bundle in his large arms.

"No WAY, Dad!" Nathan exclaimed, hopping to his feet, and flew to his father.

"Happy birthday, Nate," Mr. Petrelli announced, and carefully handed a beautiful golden retriever puppy to his eldest son. Peter sat watching with his wide set green eyes as the puppy licked its new owner all over his face. Nathan laughed, encouraging Peter to come and pet the animal, and the younger boy did just that. "Thanks a lot, Dad!" Nathan added, and Mr. Petrelli pointed to their mother, who was smiling from the kitchen doorway.

"Thank your mother, too," he encouraged. "she had a hand in this."

"Thanks, Mom," Nathan added, running to hug her, and Mrs. Petrelli returned the gesture, smoothing his short, somewhat spikey hair.

"You've shown a lot of responsibility over the past few months, so your father felt it was time," she explained, and Nathan grinned, watching as his little brother sat on the steps, scratching the dog behind the ears.

"Wow." Nathan shook his head with disbelief. He remembered begging his parents for a pet over and over, and every time they would state he was not old enough or mature enough just yet.

"He's cool, Nate," Peter announced, rubbing his eyes a little, and Nathan nodded. "What're you gonna name him?"

"I dunno," Nathan replied. "Let's bring him up to my room!"

Peter agreed, and after shooting a final glance at his parents, bolted up the stairs to the second floor of the large house. When the boys were out of ear shot, Mrs. Petrelli walked over to her husband, arms folded.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Arthur," she said in a low voice.

"Nathan's old enough to take care of a dog," Mr. Petrelli replied.

"I personally think he's too young still, but you know best apparently." Mrs. Petrelli raised an eyebrow, and lead her husband into the kitchen.

Upstairs, Peter sat on the edge of his brothers bed, watching as Nathan wrestled with his new friend on the floor. "Bullet," Nathan announced, and Peter sniffled. "That's what I'll name him. He runs fast, see?" He pointed as Bullet did another quick lap around the room, immediately pouncing on his master's lap.

Peter suddenly sneezed, catching it in his hand, and Nathan stared at him.

"You okay?" he asked, and Peter shrugged.

"I'm all stuffy," he complained, and Nathan stared at his younger brother with concern.

"Maybe you're catching a cold," he suggested as Peter sneezed again, and the dog's ears raised with curiosity at the sound.

"I dunno." Peter drug a hand across his nose, and Nathan made a face with disgust.

"That's gross, Pete," he complained, and encouraged his younger brother to get a tissue.

"Sorry," Peter mumbled, sneezing again into the crook of his arm, and shuffled out of the bedroom. Nathan shook his head with a sigh, before picking Bullet up and carrying him downstairs again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When Peter continued to sneeze and sniffle through dinner, Mrs. Petrelli immediately sent him up to bed. "But Momma," Peter whined, looking at his older brother, hoping Nathan would stick up for him.

"You may be coming down with a cold, love," Mrs. Petrelli explained, feeling her youngest son's forehead, listening as he wheezed.

"But it's Nate's birthday," Peter whimpered, and she kissed him gently.

"I know, sweetheart. But if you are ill, I would rather you be in bed resting. Nathan will be up to check on you later, dear."

Peter sighed, and Nathan gave his brother an apologetic smile, watching as the youngest boy reluctantly shuffled up the steps. Mrs. Petrelli leaned her chin in her palm for a moment, and looked at her husband.

"Has Peter been feeling sick at all this week?" she asked, and Nathan shrugged.

"He didn't sneeze at all when I came home from school. We went out to play baseball before you and Dad got home, so..."

"Nathan," Mrs. Petrelli gasped in a scolding voice. "After it's been raining all day?"

"He did slip and fall in the mud, but I had him go change right away," Nathan explained.

"That shouldn't have made him start sneezing that quickly, dear," Mr. Petrelli replied, a frown on his face. "Our son has had colds before, and usually he starts showing symptoms much sooner than this."

"Well, we'll keep an eye on him tonight, and see if he improves," Mrs. Petrelli replied. "in the meantime, let's finish dinner, and then we can let Nathan open the rest of his presents."

Nathan grinned, trying to focus on his birthday rather than the idea that his baby brother might be sick. When dinner ended, Mrs. Petrelli went upstairs to check on Peter, while Nathan helped his father clean the dishes.

Upstairs, Mrs. Petrelli opened the door to her youngest son's bedroom, and saw him laying in bed reading a comic book.

"Hello, love. How are you feeling?" she asked, and Peter looked at her.

"Okay," he replied, and she frowned a little. "I was all stuffed up but now I'm not as much."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and used the digital thermometer she'd grabbed from the bathroom medicine chest, wanting to take his temperature just in case. Peter sat up so he could hold it under his tongue, and she held his hand while they waited for the familiar beep to go off.

"No fever," she announced once she pulled the thermometer out, and Peter sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm still going to ask you to stay in bed for the night, though, honey. Just in case." She tucked him in, and Peter gripped the blankets with his tiny fists.

"Can you tell Nate to come up and say good night with Bullet?" he asked, and Mrs. Petrelli smiled at her son.

"Of course," she promised, and Peter flashed one of his heart-melting smiles in reply.

Nathan sat on the living room floor playing with his dog when his mother stepped in, and encouraged him to go and see his brother.

"Is Pete okay?" Nathan asked, his eyes wide with curiosity, and Mrs. Petrelli nodded.

"He seems to be. If he starts to show anymore symptoms, fetch me at once, will you, Nathan?" she asked, and he nodded, carrying his dog up to his brother's room. Peter lay dozing when Nathan pushed open the door, though the younger boy immediately sat up when the new addition leapt onto his bed.

"Hi," Peter greeted as the dog licked his face, causing him to shriek with giggles.

"Feeling okay, then?" Nathan asked, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed, and Peter shrugged.

"Guess so," he replied, and gave another sniffle. "Wait..." he paused, and Nathan stared as Peter gave another sneeze.

"Get down, Bullet," Nathan ordered as his brother broke into another fit as he had downstairs, though this time coughing entered into the mix. "I'm gonna get Mom," Nathan gasped, and Peter gripped his arm, eyes wide.

"No," he whimpered, and Nathan narrowed his eyes.

"I have to," He argued. "Mom said if you started sneezing again that I had to get her. You don't want me to get in trouble, do you?"

Peter frowned, knowing he didn't, but the idea of his mother coming up and possibly making him go to the doctor in the morning wasn't a pleasant thought.

Nathan drug Bullet out of the bedroom at once, and rushed downstairs to grab his mother who sat sipping a cup of tea at the kitchen table.

"It's Peter," He choked when she asked what on earth was the matter, and didn't need to say another word. Nathan held Bullet tightly in his arms, watching as his mother flew up the steps once again.

Mrs. Petrelli sat with Peter until his breathing eased, encouraging him to blow his nose. "What's wrong with me, Momma?" Peter asked, and she smoothed his hair away from his face.

"I'm not entirely sure, sweetheart. Are you certain you felt well before Nathan came in with his dog?" she asked, and Peter shrugged.

"I felt okay," he replied. "Then Bullet jumped on the bed and I started feeling all itchy."

Mrs. Petrelli pulled her youngest son into a tight hug, a terrible thought crossing her mind. Peter had never been the healthiest of the two, catching colds from a mile away. He also seemed to be allergic to everything, and it would not be far-fetched if the new dog was the cause of the sudden symptoms.

"All right, love. I want you to rest...your breathing still sounds a little forced." She looked into his eyes, and he coughed as though to prove his point.

Peter allowed her to pull the blankets up to his chin, and he gave a small sigh. "I'm sorry I ruined Nathan's birthday," he whispered, and she squeezed his hand.

"Peter, you know you did nothing of the sort," she insisted.

"Tell him I'm sorry, anyway?" Peter croaked, and Mrs. Petrelli nodded.

"I will," she replied, before making her way downstairs. This time, Nathan sat at the kitchen table with his father, a blank expression on his face. Clearly, Mr. Petrelli had been explaining possible reasons for his youngest brother's sudden situation.

"Pete's allergic to the dog, isn't he, Mom?" Nathan asked, his voice cracking with emotion, and Mrs. Petrelli sat down next to her husband.

"It certainly seems that way," she replied. "Nathan, honey, I'm so sorry."

"He always makes a mess of everything!" Nathan spat, his sad face suddenly growing angry, and Mrs. Petrelli shook her head.

"Nathan, you know that's not true. Your brother can't help this. He would do anything for you, and I am horrified to hear you say such a terrible thing about him."

Nathan turned on his heel and stomped off, leaving both adults watching him with open mouths.

"He's at that age," Mr. Petrelli sighed. "he'll go on a rampage for a little while, and in the morning he'll treat Peter as though nothing happened."

"I wish there was something we could do," Mrs. Petrelli thought out loud, and heard her eldest son's bedroom door slam shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Peace making_

Nathan lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, allowing his new puppy to do the same across his stomach. He was still upset about the idea of giving the animal away so fast, though when he tried to channel his feelings towares his little brother, his anger disapated. Peter's miserable face filled his mind, and he felt a pang of guilt stab through his heart. He was just about to sit up when there was a knock on the door, and Nathan frowned a little.

"It's Dad. Can I come in?"

Nathan sighed, scratching Bullet behind the ears, and permitted his father to enter.

"Hi," He greeted in a quiet voice, and Mr. Petrelli sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Nathan, your mother and I were not pleased by your reaction towards our dilemma tonight with your brother. I thought you would handle the situation in a more mature manner."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Nathan sighed. "I didn't mean to take it out on Pete. I just wanted a dog so bad."

"I know, son," Mr. Petrelli replied. "but this is something that can't be helped, and Peter is innocent."

"How is he?" Nathan asked, and Mr. Petrelli watched as his eldest son stood, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced back and forth across the bedroom floor.

"Your mother's sitting with him at the moment," Mr. Petrelli replied. "he's still very congested."

Nathan sighed, and asked if it would be all right to peek his head in. "I think that would be a very good idea," his father said, and Nathan shuffled out of his room. When he entered the hallway, he could hear Peter coughing, and his mother's muffled voice in the background.

Nathan peered eased his brother's bedroom door open, and caught both Peter and his mother's attention.

"Hey buddy," Nathan greeted, and Peter frowned a little, turning his head away. Mrs. Petrelli smoothed her youngest son's hair away from his face, and kissed his cheek.

"I'll let you two have a few minutes," she announced, and gave Nathan's shoulder a squeeze. When she closed the door behind her, Nathan sat down on the desk chair, looking down at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and Peter looked at him.

"Why do you care?" he asked, and Nathan sighed.

"I'm sorry, Pete," he insisted, and Peter glanced at him with one eye. "I know you couldn't help what happened."

Peter drug his hand across his nose, and Nathan grimaced at the motion, immediately pulling a couple of tissues from the box on the night stand. "These might work better," he announced, and Peter blushed, taking the tissues and burrying his nose in them. Nathan made another face when his brother gave a rather messy-sounding blow, and immediately fetched a couple more tissues as back up.

"Ugh." Peter sniffed once he finished, and threw the tissues into the trash can Nathan held up. "I don't feel so good," he admitted, and Nathan smiled.

"I'm sure you don't," he agreed. "Pete, I'm really sorry."

"Mom said you have to get rid of Bullet," Peter whispered, and Nathan chewed on his lower lip.

"Yeah, but at least I got to have a dog for a little while."

Peter managed a faint smile, before his expression changed and he sneezed a moment later.

"You really should get some sleep," Nathan suggested, and Peter stuck his lower lip in a pout.

"Will you stay with me for a while?" He whispered, and Nathan felt his heart melt. His little brother was so forgiving, so sweet and so good. It was hard to believe he hadn't sprouted angel wings yet, and in fact, Mr. Petrelli often made a comment along that line.

"Sure," Nathan promised.

"Can you tell me the story of what it would feel like to fly?" Peter had a fascination with the sky in daylight and darkness, and for hours sometimes the two brothers would imagine out loud how flying would feel.

"I think when your feet come off the ground, your heart starts beating superfast, like when you're on a rollercoaster going towards the very top," Nathan began, and thought for a moment. He imagined flying so many times that he swore he could almost do it for real. He was tempted to stand on the rooftop of the house one day and jump, just to see what would happen. "and you feel weightless, like the slightest breeze will blow you in any direction. The houses and people look like little black dots on the ground the higher you go."

Peter sighed happily at the description, closing his eyes a short time later. "How to the clouds feel? Can you see heaven when you fly high enough?"

Nathan swallowed past a lump in his throat, wishing his brother wouldn't talk like that. "Do you want to go there already?" he asked, and Peter cracked open one eye again.

"No," he replied. "but d'you think we could see it?"

"I dunno," Nathan admitted. "Probably not. Only dead people can see heaven."

"Yeah." Peter sniffed, and turned over on his side, curling into a little ball.

"Just do me a favor, Pete," Nathan continued, and Peter looked at him. "Don't go to heaven without me."

"I won't," Peter promised, letting out a loud yawn.

When Nathan was sure his brother had fallen to sleep comfortably, he pulled the covers up to the younger boy's chin. He met his mother in the hall after turning out the light, and the two of them stood facing each other for a couple of moments.

"Is Pete going to be okay?" he asked, and Mrs. Petrelli hugged Nathan, placing a kiss on top of his head.

"I'm going to take him to the doctor tomorrow, but I do think he'll be all right."

"I'm so sorry what I said, Mom," Nathan whispered. "I didn't mean to get mad at Peter."

"I know, love." Mrs. Petrelli squeezed Nathan's hands. "you were upset."

"Peter is just..." Nathan sighed shakily. "So good, Mom. I get scared when he's sick, because I'm afraid I'll wake up one day and he'll be gone forever. I don't know what I'd do without him."

Mrs. Petrelli smiled, and smoothed his forehead.

"That's why you need to protect your brother with every ounce of strength you have," She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Your father and I won't always be around to do so. Promise me you will always look after him."

"I promise, Mom," Nathan replied, and sat down on the steps after she recommended he come downstairs and open the rest of his presents. "I don't want to open them without Peter," he explained, and Mrs. Petrelli nodded in understanding.

"Well, all right, dear. Good night. Another year older." she winked, before heading downstairs.

"Another year older," Nathan repeated, once his mother was out of earshot, and glanced over his shoulder at his brother's bedroom door. "I promise, Pete," he added, before going into his own room for the night.


End file.
